The Case of MJN Air Zakatala
by Zelda148
Summary: Mycroft alerts Sherlock to a possible case concerning a certain airdot. This fic is being published as it is being written and is also for the A03 Auction so is at the request and guidance of the lovely woman who paid for it. Hope you enjoy it. Also, the title is meant to have a semi-colon before Zakatala, don't know why it won't let me do that.
1. Chapter 1

The kettle boiled and John poured the water over the teabags waiting in the mugs while he listened to Sherlock reluctantly talk on the phone.

"Fine... Yes, I can do that... Yes, I mean we can do that... Yes... Of course... Yes, I heard the name... Okay, I don't know why you think I won't remember that... Yes... Okay... I'll get back to you." Sherlock rolled his eyes at John as he put on a strenous facade of politeness to whoever was on the other end of the phone. "Yes... Yes... Yes, of course... Yes... Okay... I told you, I'll get back to you." Sherlock flopped down into his chair as he hung up and sighed heavily.

"Who was that?" John handed Sherlock one of the cup of tea.

"My dearest big brother. He thinks that he might have a case for us." Sherlock accepted the mug and opened the laptop simultaneously, not looking at John while he spoke.

"Okay. I notice it's a case for us to solve but once it's solved it's you who needs a new one." Both men continued the conversation in the same manner, neither looking at the other; instead focusing on their respective tasks, Sherlock on the laptop and John on the medical journal he'd picked up from the coffee table.

"Well John, I was under the impression that as much as you enjoy the cases you don't have the same need or desire for them as I do. So your observation is indeed correct. Well done." Sherlock's voice resolnated deeply over the clicking of computer keys and in seconds he was peering at the screen in front of him; a frown appearing on his pale forehead.

"Right, whatever Sherlock. No need to be patronising. What's this case then?" John sippd his tea, leaning forwards with interest.

Sherlock spun the computer on his lap to reveal a website for a charter airline which was seemingly designed by a child, or that's what both Sherlock and John both deducted from the line of dancing aeroplanes.

* * *

"So Mum, what are we taking to Zakatala? Is it going to be another cat? If it's a cat I'll make sure Skip remembers to make sure the cargo hold is heated this time.

"Arthur? Are you talking about that time you flew that oil exec's belongings to Abu Dhabi?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean Martin will have to make sure the cargo hold heat is on? It was on last time wasn't it?" Carolyn met her son's eyes with eyebrows raised, waiting for the inevitable yet still nonsensical lie he as about to produce.

"Nothing, I mean, yes of course it was on. It would have been silly if it wasn't. Skip definitely didn't have forget to switch it on. And Douglas definitely didn't have to save the cat by pretending to smell smoke which he definitely didn't do but if he had it would have been brilliant but he didn't because the cat wasn't going to die because that would only have happened if Skip had turned off the cardo hold heating which he definitely didn't and it was a complete coincidence that Douglas and Martin smelt smoke in the flight deck on that trip." Arthur breathed in heavily at the end of his speech, crossing his fingers behind his back and waiting nervously for the repsonse from his mother.

"Okay Arthur, I believe you." Carolyn had decided at some point during Arthur's drivel too let it go. After all, it was years ago and she couldn't well puncish Martin for something that had happened years ago. Could she?

"Really?" Arthur's astonishment showed, his eyes were wide and his voice questioning.

"Yes Arthur, really."

"So what are we taking then Mum?"

"We're taking Mr Woodham's belongings from Coventry to Zakatala."

"Shall I go and help load the plane?"

"Arthur two things; firstly, we have to collect the belonging's first, I'm hoping Martin will let us use Icarus and secondly Arthur, we're somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. If you can load the plant despite these two minor problems then I'd love to see it."

"Oh right." Arthur chuckled to himself. "Should I make teas and coffees then Mum?"

"I do think it would be a trifle easier Arthur. I really do."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, Mycroft thinks that this…" John leant over Sherlock's shoulder to check the name. "MJN Air is going to be smuggling something out of the country?"

"Yes, to Zakatala. How many times are we going to go over this before you understand John. A charter airline, which I believe exists of a single aeroplane, a Lockheed McDonnell 312 to be specific, is going to be smuggling stolen goods out of the country and into Azerbaijan and Mycroft wants to us to stop them. Or at any rate, give him a chance to send someone over to retrieve them off us."

"Why does Mycroft care about smuggling? Not exactly a giant national threat. Is it?" John chose to ignore Sherlock's tone, knowing that any complaints would only make matters worse. Moving back into the kitchen to boil the kettle once again, he cradled his now empty mug in his hand.

"I don't know, and frankly I don't care. It would take far too long and far too much effort to try and figure out why Mycroft does what he does. It's a case and I need a case."

"Sherlock, you solved a case yesterday." John didn't even look up from pouring milk into the mugs as he spoke, so used to Sherlock that he could imagine the exasperated look he was being given.

"Exactly. Too long ago John, far too long."

"Fine Sherlock. What are we going to do then? You could at least tell me the plan this time. Unless me not knowing is part of the plan. If you even have a plan." John muttered the last sentence, speaking almost to himself.

"I heard that John. It was important for you to be ignorant of that specific plan because you wouldn't have been genuine otherwise. Also, I do have a plan. We're going to book the plane for a trip to Azerbaijan and it's likely that as a small business they're likely to double up to save on landing fees."

"Anything past that?"

"No John, nothing past that but surely you know me well enough to know that by the time we've boarded the plane I'll have furthered my plan and will be prepared for every eventuality."

John sighed, handing Sherlock his second cup of tea and wondered why he even bothered asking when he knew he was going to receive the same arrogant spiel he always did.

* * *

"So Douglas, where are we going?"

"Did Carolyn not tell you what we were doing today Arthur or were you just not listening?" Douglas responded from the driver's seat, turning to raise his eyebrows at Arthur in the seat next to him.

"Eyes on the road Douglas! I can't afford for you to crash my van!" Martin's eyes widened in panic.

"Oh relax Martin, I've been driving since before you could count to ten."

"Actually, Douglas, Mum said I could count to ten by the time I was two, that would mean you were driving before you even hit puberty." Martin sounded proud, sure that this time he has successfully beaten Douglas' trademark sarcasm.

"Well that would be a trick I suppose. Except I never hit puberty, I was born with everything just as perfect as it is now; my voice, my magnificent…"

"Alright, I don't need to hear about anything else. Nobody needs to hear about that."

"Hair, I was going to say my magnificent hair, on my head, but since you mentioned it…"

"Okay! We get it Douglas. You're a big manly man and you always have been." Martin slumped against the seat of the van.

"And always will be, might I add. Also, to answer your question Arthur, we're going to Coventry."

"Why?"

"Arthur, if you don't remember what we're doing in Martin's van, I'd love to hear your guess on the subject." Douglas rolled down the window, steering with one hand and was rewarded with a wince from Martin.

"Well, last time we went in Martin's van we were taking a piano to, I can't remember now, Ferret's Queen Maisie?"

"Ottery Saint Mary." Douglas corrected him but nodded, indicating he should continue.

"At least he remembered it was a woman's name this time." Martin chuckled, Arthur's stupidity making his own misfortune seem lighter.

"Yeah, Ottery Saint Mary. And we had jelly babies and a piano. And we fit one hundred otters on GE-RTI. And jelly babies are the same shape as piano keys and murray mints are the same shape as the holes in a recorder and Coventry sounds like cuddly and bears are cuddly so I think we're taking some recorders to Coventry and on the way we're going to talk about how many bears we can fit on GE-RTI. Which, by the way, I think will be less than one hundred." Arthur looked between Martin and Douglas, seeking confirmation for his theory.

"Okay, Arthur. Firstly, you helped us load the van. Were there any recorders?" Douglas turned back to Arthur, looking him in the eye while waiting for his answer.

"There might have been, everything was in boxes."

"Eyes on the road Douglas. And Arthur, the boxes were labelled. You carried the ones labelled clothes." Martin looked at Arthur, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Yeah but it could have been a trick."

"I don't think so somehow. Douglas, please concentrate on the road! One of us can open a mint for you!"

"Fine Martin. Fine! Here!" Douglas passed Martin the bag. "But I do agree with Arthur on one thing."

"What!? Really? What do you agree with him about?"

"That the amount of bears we could fit on GE-RTI would be less than one hundred."


End file.
